


ASZ ala Richonne Ficlets

by niklovr



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Alexandria Safe-Zone, Drama, F/M, Interracial Relationship, Male-Female Friendship, Post-Terminus (Walking Dead), Romance, Romantic Friendship, Zombie Apocalypse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-04
Updated: 2016-03-01
Packaged: 2018-03-16 06:24:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 8,083
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3477791
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/niklovr/pseuds/niklovr
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The following interconnected ficlets are in response to the March Prompt Table Challenge on Tumblr. The events occur in the time space of episode 5x12 "Remember" and addresses the group's arrival in the Alexandria Safe Zone and how Rick and Michonne's relationship evolve in this new environment. [Richonne]</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Showers

~Showers~

 

Rick had given the word for his group to disperse into separate houses. Several moved into the house next door while the rest claimed the vacant two-story across the street. Despite the proximity of the buildings, he felt the loss of their presence immediately. After weeks of traveling together, he had gotten used to their sounds. Fifteen under one roof hadn't bothered him, but the thought of one in particular moving away churned his gut.

 

With Judith tucked tight in his arms, he held the sleeping baby as he watched them file into their new homes. Glenn, Maggie, Daryl, Sasha and Gabriel headed next door. Abraham, Rosita, Eugene, Tara, and Carol claimed the other one. Rick had offered the extra bed in Carl's room to Noah and the young man accepted with a faint grin. Rick's next invitation lodged in his throat amid the bustle of movement.

 

He and Michonne had begun a strange ritual of push and pull with every measure seeming to bring them a tiny step closer. Asking her to stay should have been easy after everything they'd been through, but the possibility of rejection held him still. Instead, he stood on the porch and waited.

 

After awhile, he wondered if he had missed her. She had moves like a ninja. If she wanted to float by without a witness, Michonne was more than capable. But in the groups that left, he couldn't imagine where she would gravitate. A home with him and the kids seemed the logical choice, the best one by far. But his need for her prompted that assumption. By now, he knew better than to assume.

 

As afternoon surrendered to evening, Rick gave up watch duties for the night and headed back inside and locked up. The living room felt strangely bare after the bodies it hosted the first couple of nights of their arrival. He reminded himself that everyone was close by. Upstairs, he heard the boys talking and maybe the sound of video games or music playing. He took a bottle of water from the fridge before he climbed the staircase.

 

Judith's crib had been moved to the master bedroom. He placed the sleeping baby inside. Seeing her clean and fed soothed him just as much as the murmurs of Carl and Noah from down the hall. He had just kicked off his boots when he noticed the sound of running water from the master bathroom. He grabbed the butcher knife from his belt as he moved to investigate.

 

Fog clouded his vision when he pushed the door open. Fresh air helped. Inside the glass showers stood the lovely naked form of Michonne. A clear view of her body was hidden by the shower's steam, but he recognized her shapely rear and long dark locs. Rick knew that ogling was an asshole move, but the sight of her rendered him immobile.

 

If it took her twenty minutes to brush her teeth, he wondered how long she had been in the shower. He aimed to keep his thoughts neutral by thinking of time and numbers, but that only lasted a moment. Soon, his breath quickened. He felt hot and the sudden tightness of his jeans bothered him. All that time he worried that she had left, but she had been here—naked, clean, and beautiful—all along. Did she have any idea of her affect on him?

 

The decision to leave arrived the moment she turned her back to the showerhead and faced him.

 

Her soft gasp and his name whispered in the confining space. "Rick?"

 

"Sorry—"

 

"Wait." She fumbled a bit until the water stopped. "I forgot to get a towel."

 

"Yeah?" A grin erupted before he could pull it back. His chuckle followed.

 

"Yeah," she said, her tone firm. "A towel."

 

"Right." He grabbed one from the bathroom's linen closet. The urge to choose the smallest one was a battle that he fought against and won. He handed her a large bath towel through the shower door that was open little more than an inch. "Here ya go."

 

"Thanks."

 

_I should leave_ , Rick thought, but he didn't move. His sock covered feet refused to budge except to back up a couple of steps when she stepped from the shower stall. The towel covered her, but the tiny beads of moisture along her shoulders and collarbone tantalized him. The soap smelled much fresher on her skin than it had on his. He drew in deep breaths as savored the scent.

 

Her dark brown eyes blazed. But not with anger or admonishment. The heat mirrored the same that burned in him. Rick knew that because he knew Michonne. They read each other in ways that would have terrified him before the world went to shit, but now the inherent recognition made perfect sense. Even when they disagreed, he could look into her eyes and _everything_ made _perfect sense_.

 

"You're staying here," Rick said, "with us."

 

She nodded, her smile radiant. "Yeah."

 

 

_To be continued_


	2. Invigorate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Michonne's take on Rick's discovery in the shower and what comes after.

Michonne rested flat on her back in a queen-sized bed with sheets and pillows for the first time in what seemed like forever, but instead of luxuriating in the sensation of warmth and comfort, her mind was consumed with thoughts of the man on the other side of the wall. Rick Grimes had a clean shaven face and fresh hair cut. She remembered how his blue eyes darkened when he handed her the towel. He should have left soon after. She should have told him to, but she didn't. He wanted her to stay in the house with them. Although she had already made the decision, hearing him say the words…

 

_God, how I needed him to say the words, but he didn't just say them_ , she thought. Rick issued a demand. For them, that was uncommon. They negotiated and compromised. Only when necessary were demands issued like when she stated the group's need to check out Alexandria, just to be sure.

 

She heard movement on the other side of the wall. The thud of the wooden bedpost hitting the wall. His low moan of contentment following soon after. She imagined him relaxing enough to remove his jeans. He had been bootless when he found her in the shower. Would he discard his shirt, too? She was down to a tank top and panties. Both were becoming a tad uncomfortable, as images of Rick proved too invigorating for sleep. She wondered what would have happened if the situation had been in reverse. If she had found him in the shower instead.

 

"Girl, get a grip," she murmured.

 

She rolled onto her side and tried to will sleep to come, but it refused. Her new constable uniform captured her attention. It hung on the closet door. Black and blue. A pair of sensible black shoes rested against the wall. Deanna's suggestion came as a surprise. Of course, it made perfect sense for Rick.

 

A tap sounded at her door. She wrapped the sheet around her waist and answered the knock. Rick stood in the doorway. His hair was ruffled, his t-shirt wrinkled. He was still bootless.

 

"Did I wake you?"

 

"No," she said. "Something wrong?"

 

"Can't sleep." He looked away for a moment as he rubbed his jaw. "Too quiet."

 

"You miss Eugene's snore?"

 

Rick laughed. "Not exactly. That's not what I miss."

 

His stare caught her off guard. Her bedroom was dark, but a nightlight lit the hall. It was enough to illuminate the want in his eyes. She moistened her lips with the tip of her tongue. He responded with a low groan. The sound rippled through her. She clutched the doorknob and pulled it back an inch.

 

Rick lifted his eyebrows in acknowledgement of her silent invitation. The house was silent except for their loud breaths. He brushed a loc from her shoulder. "Come with me downstairs."

 

"Okay. I'll meet you—"

 

"No," he said, reaching for her hand. "Now."

 

With her free hand, Michonne secured the sheet tighter around her waist. At the landing, he released her and she followed him down the staircase. She thought maybe he'd lead her to the kitchen or dining room, but he headed straight to the sofa and indicated for her to join him.

 

"This'll be the second night we can't sleep," he said, giving her a sheepish smile.

 

"What kind of law will that make us?" she asked.

 

"The sleepy kind."

 

"Wonder what she expects from us," Michonne said.

 

"She's lucky she has us," Rick said. After awhile, he added, "I'm lucky."

 

"We finally have a roof over our heads. It feels good—"

 

"I'm talking about you," he said, shifting on the sofa to look her full in the face. "Make no mistake. I need you to hear me."

 

She nodded. "I'm listening."

 

"I couldn't sleep. Every time I closed my eyes, I kept seeing you in that shower. In that towel. Your smile. Your eyes. Your everything. I probably shouldn't be telling you this, but I don't want you staying here under false pretenses," Rick stated firmly. "I want you. If that makes you uncomfortable, or if tha—"

 

Her mouth on his silenced whatever else he intended to say. The kiss began hard. Their lips, teeth, and tongues plundering until he pulled her close. One of his hands splayed the small of her back while the other tangled in the sheet to cup her rear. He squeezed until she moaned and he growled. Frenzied hunger gave way to passionate, deliberate exploration. When the kiss ended, she was straddling his lap and she felt as if she had been reawakened from a long, dark slumber.

 

"I want you, too," she said.

 

He smiled and drew her to him again.

 

_To be continued…_

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for checking out the story and commenting and kudoing! :-)


	3. Joyous

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rick feels immense joy.

~Joyous~

 

Rick tugged on the sheet in search of an opening. The fit of his hand against Michonne's firm, perfect bottom told him things. She wore very little if anything at all and he aimed to touch her. He needed to know if she was as warm and smooth as he imagined. His skin to hers had been a fantasy held at bay for far too long.

 

More shifting brought her closer. The hard tips of her breasts grazed his chest through the barriers of their shirts. His tongue dove into the hollow of her collarbone as she slid her fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck. Her fingers glided against his scalp, rubbing him and pulling him to her. All the while, he fought with the sheet. His frustration grew as the linen tangled instead of offering a reprieve.

 

"Fuck!" he muttered. He gripped the sheet and her hand closed over his.

 

"Wait."

 

He stared at her in wonder. Everything in him screamed otherwise. They had already waited too long. The scent of her arousal told him she wanted this as much as he did. What the hell was she thinking?

 

"Michonne?" he all but growled.

 

In response, she cupped his face and gave him one of her beautiful smiles. Then, she frowned. "Not down here. Not like this."

 

"Where?"

 

Her frown deepened. "I don't know… Upstairs, they'll hear."

 

"Are you a squealer?" He trailed kisses along her jaw. His left hand found a gap in the sheet. The first touch of his fingers along her inner thigh was akin to heaven. He felt numerous sensations at once. Her flesh was smooth, supple, yet firm, and soft.

 

"No—"

 

Her gasp interrupted her denial. His hand had found the center between her thighs. The tiny scrap of underwear did little to buffer the wetness that coated his palm. He took care with his massage, enjoying the way she arched against his hand. Her moans answered his question. Michonne was a moaner.

 

"Here then," he said, watching her.

 

Moonlight filtered in through the slats of the shutters. The light highlighted her beauty. The raw passion in her eyes was unguarded and striking. He couldn't believe that they had waited this long.

 

She closed her hand around his wrist to slow him. "Not on the couch."

 

"Say please." He kissed her. Once. Twice. More times than he could count until they were both breathless and he knew her taste better than he knew his own. "On the floor?"

 

"Yeah," she panted.

 

Like unschooled teenagers, they undressed in hurried movements and landed on the floor on top of the sheet. Her attempts to push him onto his back were outmaneuvered and he had her flat with her thighs spread just the way he wanted them.

 

She wasn't completely bare, but the curls that covered her womanhood were minimal. Her center glistened with want for him and that spot had his full attention. Another time, he would take care to explore toes, legs, and thighs. But tonight, he had a taste for something else.

 

Light kisses would have prepared her better, but from her squirming and moans, he knew she was plenty ready. He dove in with deep kisses, his tongue penetrating and his fingers petting her clit. Michonne's grip on his hair hurt, but the pain was pleasurable, joyous even. She was on the brink and it was because of him.

 

One finger, then two found the bundle of nerves deep inside her. "You're so wet," he murmured before he suckled her clit.

 

Within seconds, her moans transformed to series of gasps until she managed to get his name out.

 

" _Rick!_ "

 

He hesitated a moment to enjoy the sight of her, but only a moment was all his cock would allow. He pressed the tip against her slick opening. In the back of his mind, he was aware that although his fingers fit, she was tight. Sweat moistened his back. His heart pounded his chest. He never knew that he had the ability for this level of restraint, but he didn't want to hurt her. Again, he caressed the head against her, sliding it along the folds and in between and then just inside.

 

She gripped his shoulders and he moved to pull out.

 

"No," Michonne said. "More. More, Rick."

 

Like he had so many times before, Rick obeyed Michonne's command.

 

_To be continued…_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, commenting, and kudoing!


	4. Rejuvenate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Michonne, Rick, and the morning after.

~Rejuvenate~

 

Michonne greeted the morning to an ache she hadn't felt in a long time. She woke up slowly, reveling in her memories of the night before. The decision to stay with Rick had been made without second thought. There was no fit that would have been better than with Rick and his children. And since the detour to Noah's former home at Shirewilt Estates where they lost Tyreese, Michonne had begun to feel a kinship to Noah, too. But honestly, it was the draw to Rick that lulled her in. She had told herself it would never happen again, but there was something about the way he looked at her.

 

The noises on the other side of the wall brought a smile to her face. He was waking up, too. After making love on the floor and a long kissing session on the staircase, he walked her to her room. Sleeping together would have been ideal, but it was too soon. Rick would need to explain things to Carl. Then she would have to talk to him, too. Adjusting to the new place and new people were more than enough for the teen. Besides, she and Rick had to figure this out first.

 

An hour later, she was dressed in her new constable uniform and finishing the breakfast dishes. Carl and Noah had offered to clean the kitchen, but she sent them away with the understanding that they had dinner duty. Carl bundled Judith inside her stroller and off the three of them went. She poured another mug of tea and sipped, wondering why Rick hadn't joined them for breakfast.

 

As if on cue, he strode through the front door. Like her, he looked official with his badge and black pants and tie. His slicked back hair was far different from the untamed locks that had framed his face for the last few weeks. He took several steps across the hardwood floor, stopping at the counter. His blue eyes were confident as he stared at her. She recognized warmth, too. He smiled.

 

"G'mornin'."

 

"Morning," she said. "We ate."

 

He nodded. "Carl told me. I ran into them."

 

"I didn't hear you leave." The words sounded accusatory and that wasn't her way. She opted to change the subject instead of offering an explanation. "There's tea. Maybe we'll get coffee when Glenn goes on a run."

 

"Tea's good." He joined her in the kitchen. "I can do it. Maybe we could take a few minutes before we go in."

 

She sat at the table. Her fingers toyed with the handle of the mug. "What time are we expected to go in? Is there a time? If there's just the two of us, how are we doing this?"

 

He squeezed her shoulder. "We'll figure it out." Once his tea was done, he chose a chair next to her and sat. "About last night…"

 

She grimaced. Rick took her hand and drew it toward him. "Don't," she said. "I know what you're going to say."

 

"No, you don't."

 

"It's the wrong time," she said. "It's too soon. We need to figure out this place. Besides, it was just two people…with needs. After all that time on the road, we just needed a release."

 

Rick chuckled. Upon her stare, he coughed. "That's what I was going to say?"

 

"Sure." She shrugged and squared her shoulders. "Maybe not all of it, but you and I both know that there's nothing more to what we did last night than sex."

 

"Sex?" he repeated. He still held her hand. As his fingers caressed hers, she glanced down and noticed that his wedding band was gone from his left hand. His gold watch was his only accessory. She drew in a harsh, quick break.

 

"Michonne?"

 

Stunned, she took a long swallow of tea. The hot liquid was soothing. She had forgotten how pleasant the taste was and just the act of drinking tea. It struck her that she didn't want to do this now. Being with Rick had been everything she wanted but she hadn't been ready for the morning after. She could handle walkers and crazy, power hungry megalomaniacs, but this thing with him was something she didn't always understand.

 

"I wasn't going to say any of that," he said, gently. "It hadn't crossed my mind. Was it just a release for you?"

 

A lie would be so easy, but instead, she said, "No."

 

"It's been awhile for both of us. Not just sex," he said. "All of it. Do you trust me?"

 

"You know I do."

 

"I trust you," he said, "more than anyone. We can do this."

 

She nodded. The words lodged in her chest. She was done taking breaks. That was true. This step pushed them in a new, exciting direction. His enthusiasm rejuvenated her.

 

He leaned in. "Say something."

 

"We can do this, but… Maybe I should live somewhere else."

 

"No," Rick said. "You belong here. With us. You'll stay?"

 

"I'll stay."

 

_To be continued…_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [A/N: Thanks for checking out this story! It seems the pair is official now? Maybe? Yeah, but what about those sleeping arrangements? lol Thanks again! ☺]


	5. Grow

"Don't go."

 

Rick caught Michonne's hand. They stood in a darkened corner of Deanna's porch. Just a few steps away, a welcome party was in full swing. Maggie and Glenn were watching Judith while Carl and Noah were making friends. Rick and Michonne had left their constable uniforms in their closets. He had never seen her look more beautiful in a clingy red dress, gold earrings and sandals. She had styled her locs away from her face. The sight of her had taken his breath away. The thought of arriving with her on his arm had made him swell with pride, but seconds before the door opened, she slipped away. It took him close to thirty minutes to find her. Now despite her silence and the limited lighting, he could read her well enough. Escape was on her mind.

 

"Michonne?"

 

"I thought I could…" She gestured with her free hand toward the party that continued without them inside the multi-story house. "I can't."

 

"It's okay," he said gently.

 

"Is it?" she asked. "Five times I went to the door. Even turned the knob. But I couldn't pull it open. I couldn't go inside."

 

"But you're here," Rick said. He moved to stand in front of her and took her hands to guide her toward a part of the porch where moonlight glowed just enough to shine on them. "It doesn't matter if you go inside. Maybe you need a little more time…"

 

She shook her head. "Not tonight, Rick."

 

"Why do I feel like I'm missing something?" he asked. "What happened? You look so beautiful. You have to know that."

 

"You keep telling me." She released a faint laugh.

 

"Not just me. I came close to having a word with Carl and Noah." Rick frowned. "They were tripping over themselves. Drooling. Disgusting."

 

She playfully rolled her eyes. "Oh please."

 

Rick settled his hands at her waist. Without much effort, their bodies became closer and his arms encircled her. If anyone ventured onto the porch, Rick wouldn't release her. He didn't care who saw them. They hadn't discussed the rules of revealing their relationship other than the Carl discussion, but with the others, Rick suspected most of them were wondering what had taken them so long.

 

"I'll get Judith and we'll leave."

 

"Doing that will make it worse," she said. "It's bad enough you're out here instead of inside. I'm the worst hypocrite." Michonne pulled free of him and moved to stand near the window. "That's what I wanted…for all of us…but I can't even go inside."

 

Rick closed the distance, holding her from behind. "You're not a hypocrite."

 

"I saw you in there," she said, leaning back against his chest. "You were in your element. There were times I wasn't sure I recognized you. Never once did you appear out of place. Once upon time, I would've fit in, too. I hosted parties like these. That was before… I've changed. I don't fit."

 

"You do," he argued. "Those people have no idea what's out there. Beyond those gates, they wouldn't last a day. You survived months alone. You fit better than they ever will. You've grown, adapted in this world while they've tried to hang on to something that's gone. Don't isolate yourself, my beautiful Michonne, or sell yourself short. You fit better than anyone I know."

 

He felt her sigh ease through her body. His hold tightened and Rick rested his cheek against hers. When he felt her mouth curve into a smile, he released a low chuckle.

 

"What did I tell you about sweet-talking me, Rick Grimes?"

 

"I don't recall any complaints, my beautiful Michonne." He kissed her cheek.

 

She turned to face him. "I'm going to take a walk."

 

"I'll ask Maggie to bring Judith home—"

 

"No," Michonne said, shaking her head. "I'll see you at home, and Rick, I can get there by myself."

 

"Okay."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [A/N: This one has a different feel, but it's still all Richonne. I can't see what happens with the next word from the prompt table. As always, thanks for reading, reviewing, kudo-ing, etc!]


	6. Airy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Michonne and Rick negotiate their roles as partners versus their status as a couple.

~Airy~

 

"Good morning, beautiful. How did you sleep?"

 

Michonne awakened to Rick's bright blue eyes staring into hers and his low, Southern drawl close to her ear. This wasn't her first morning waking in his arms, but after a couple of weeks, she was still getting used to it. Carl and Noah took the change in stride, and Judith hadn't offered resistance either. As a whole, they were a happy unit. Sometimes, she allowed herself to forget about the walkers roaming outside the walls and enjoyed the sensation of normalcy that converted their group of five into a family.

 

"Pretty good," she murmured rolling onto her side to enjoy the fullness of his embrace. She grazed her fingertips over his chest. The fine hairs caressed her skin, and she smiled. "And you?"

 

"Good." He rubbed her lower back and hip. "Sore?"

 

She shrugged. "It's not bad. Rosita gave me some aspirin. I'll take it when I get up."

 

"Think ice will help?" A concerned frown darkened his brow.

 

"You weren't thinking about ice a few hours ago," she said smirking.

 

He grinned. "I was careful… _We_ were careful."

 

"Mmm…"

 

Rick's grin faded. "Seriously, it feels swollen. Right here. You should've waited for me. Next time don't go rushing off without me."

 

"You know me." She scooted from his grasp, swallowing a wince as she stood and padded across the room to slip into a robe. Michonne loathed to admit that he was right about the swelling, but she wouldn't give an inch about waiting for him to assist with breaking up fights. She handled it well. Tripping over the owl statue had been an accident and those happened. Although she could've sworn the ghastly structure hadn't been behind her when she hurried to separate Carl and Ron.

 

Rick moved into a sitting position. The sheets bunched at his waist and his chest indicated the slightest heave. "Carl's on punishment until further notice. I'm gonna have talk with Ron, too."

 

"Carl feels bad enough," she said. "Let it be."

 

Crimson darkened her man's face. "You know me."

 

She nodded. Indeed, she did.

 

After a shower and donning her casual clothes, she headed downstairs. The breakfast dishes were done, and a protein bar waited for her at her place at the table. She poured a glass of powdered milk to have with the bar. Michonne never imagined missing scrambled eggs, toast, and fresh-squeezed orange juice. Before the change, she often made breakfast for Andre Anthony, but rarely paused long enough to eat with him. She shuddered at the memory. What she wouldn't give for one more day.

 

With breakfast in hand, she drifted to the front porch. Without watches and calendars, they had long lost exact dates, but from the airy breeze that made chill bumps dot her arms, she was certain that fall was giving way to winter. She appreciated that they had roofs over their heads now and wouldn't have to brave the elements unprotected and on the run.

 

Rick found her there hours later. He was still in uniform and carried a brown paper sack in his right hand.

 

"What's that?" she asked.

 

"A bag," he said, holding it up.

 

"You'll be the star of talent night," she said, chuckling softly.

 

He shook his head. "I don't think so." He leaned against the railing across from her. A faint stubble covered his jawline and Michonne realized that she liked that look on him. He smiled as if he read her thoughts. Then he extended the bag toward her. "For you."

 

She accepted the offering, but hesitated before peeking inside.

 

"Go ahead," he said. "It won't bite."

 

"What is this?" Michonne asked.

 

"It's yours," Rick said. "Open it."

 

She peeled the sack's opening apart. A shiny silver whistle with a long string nestled beneath it lay in the bottom of the bag. "What is this?" she repeated.

 

"What does it look like?" He asked, blue eyes twinkling.

 

"I know it's a whistle, but why?"

 

"Take a guess," he countered.

 

"I'm not blowing a whistle for you to come running. The tumble was an accident," she argued. "No big deal."

 

"As you've said repeatedly." He reached inside his jacket to show her that an identical whistle hung from his neck. "Not as good as a radio, but it'll do."

 

She couldn't resist a small chuckle. "You think you're so smart."

 

His response was to take her whistle and drape the string around her neck. The whistle rested at the rise of her breasts. His gaze lingered and his smile returned. "It looks good on you."

 

"I'm not using this," she said.

 

"We're in this together." Rick brushed the back of his hand against her cheek. "Partners look out for each other. That's all I'm doing."

 

"I know, but…"

 

"You've trusted me before," he said. "Trust me in this."

 

"You think I'm being stubborn," she said, fingering the whistle, "but that's not it. And you know I trust you."

 

"Then what is it?"

 

" _Us_ being together…as a couple and not just keepers of the community doesn't make me less capable—"

 

"I never said that," he argued.

 

"And I don't think you even realize it," Michonne said, "but it's there. You have a need to protect me, and it's one of the things I lo—like about you. It's so _you_ , Rick, but you have to trust me to take care of myself. You have before. With Carl and Judith…on the road. Being behind walls doesn't change anything. I'm capable."

 

His jaw clenched as he looked down. "I know you are," he murmured so softly that she strained to hear him. Then, louder he added, "I know. I don't believe you're not capable. I just don't…I don't want anything to happen. I can't lose you."

 

She took his hands, squeezing until he looked at her. "I can't promise that you won't. Tomorrow isn't promised so we have to live fully today and every day we have."

 

"You're right," he said, nodding. He pulled until she was in his arms. "You're always right."

 

"Pretty much." She kissed his cheek and took her time kissing his mouth. When the kiss ended, she said, "But I'll wear the whistle. It's pretty and it's been a long time since I've had something this shiny that wasn't a weapon. Thank you, Rick."

 

"Thank you, my beautiful Michonne."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Thanks for reading! Enjoy. :-)]


	7. Blossoming

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rick and Michonne reaches a milestone in their relationship and another wonderful thing occurs.

~ Blossoming ~

 

Rick sat on the back deck. Judith played at his feet, her delightful baby babbling interrupting the otherwise quiet evening. Inside, the boys' voices carried as they wagered and argued over a passionate game of Uno. Rick heard a softer tone join the heavier voices and reasoned that Enid had arrived. As he glanced down at his daughter, he realized that the Alexandria Safe Zone had become home and he didn't know when the change happened.

 

Smoke drifted from the barbecue grill. Skinned and quartered rabbits marinated in the refrigerator. On a recent run, Glenn returned with an apron that said, 'BBQ is man's work' and Michonne had goaded Rick into wearing it today. For now, it was draped across his lap. The ties fascinated Judith and she tugged and swatted the ends with wild, baby abandon.

 

Contentment threatened to take hold of him, and the thought frightened Rick. Of course, he wanted his family to feel safe, but he knew better. He knew what was out there and what could ruin their attempts to make their new home stable. Judith waddled to her feet. Her balance wasn't perfect, but she stood longer each time she tried. A watery grin brightened her eyes as their gazes connected. Rick smiled, resisting the urge to prevent her fall.

 

"You're growing up so fast," he murmured. "We _have_ to make this work."

 

Judith tumbled to the wooden floorboards. A moment passed and Rick saw the urge to cry lose to a fitful of giggles. She then tried again.

 

"She'll be walking before the end of the week," Michonne said, stepping outside to join them.

 

"You're early."

 

"Sasha came in and I came home," she said and dropped to her knees. "I can't resist. I have to try."

 

Rick shifted to watch her beckon to Judith with a soft waving of her hands. Her dark eyes and skin glowed. She took his breath away and he reveled in the sensation. She had pulled her locs into a ponytail, but a few rebels caressed her cheeks. Later, they would make love and sometime in between, he would remember this moment. Her gentleness and care with his daughter. How she transformed the four walls and a roof into a home. How she was blossoming before his eyes, revealing all facets that made her more than a fierce warrior but also a remarkable woman. An amazing woman that he loved.

 

"It's okay," Michonne said, her voice tender and inviting. "Come to me."

 

Judith's first step wavered. The next couple steps were true. The final step took her right into Michonne's waiting arms. "Ma Ma," the baby said in triumph.

 

Michonne lifted Judith into her arms and held her in an embrace that Rick swore he felt despite the distance that separated them. He went to the two most important females in his life. Michonne blinked, but not before he noticed the wetness brimming her eyes.

 

"I never told her to…" she said in a hoarse whisper. "Not once."

 

He rubbed his daughter's back. The baby grinned at him, but she did not extend her arms for Rick to hold her.

 

"I know you didn't," he said, "but it's okay. You're the only mother she's known."

 

Closing her eyes, Michonne nodded. "It feels right and wrong at the same time. Carl may not… I'll teach her not to."

 

He wrapped his arm around her shoulder. "I said it's okay. Let her be. Carl will be fine."

 

She opened her eyes and nodded again. "It's been a long time."

 

"Are you okay?" he asked.

 

"The best I've been in a while."

 

He kissed her cheek and indulged in a quick nuzzle of her neck. "I love you."

 

Standing without a centimeter separating them, he felt her sharp hitch of breath, as clearly as he heard it. His admission was met with silence. In the past, he would have been unnerved by the quiet, but he understood her. Michonne didn’t have to say aloud what Rick already knew. She had shown him in over a thousand ways that she loved him, too. While Rick could not be content with feeling too safe in their new home, he was more than comfortable giving her the space to say what she felt when she was ready.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you, everyone, for reading! I appreciate your interest in the story and your feedback!


	8. Refreshing

~ Refreshing ~

 

Michonne knelt before the patch of dirt just below the porch. Judith, a straw hat shading her round face, waited expectedly beside her. Both had shovels, except the toddler's was bright yellow and made of plastic. Michonne made sure to keep the sharp edge of her shovel away from the curious child. But as Michonne was coming to notice, Judith had a strong intuition and knew how to go just far enough. Since they began their flower garden experiment, the toddler hadn't been scolded once.

 

A small batch of flower seeds lay before them. Alexandria had a beautiful, planned quality that reminded Michonne of the days gone past, but since this was their home, she needed to put her own stamp on it. The agriculture scene had never intrigued her, but she was determined to see this through.

 

"Which one?" Michonne asked. "We have violets, marigolds, daffodils, and daisies. Where should we start?"

 

Judith squatted. Her answer was a mixture of undecipherable noises and a clear, "Ma Ma! This!"

 

Michonne took the packet of violets that Judith was offering. The photo on the package had the most dazzling shades of pink, lavender, and purple. The petals seemed to vibrate with its stunning hue. Michonne smiled and said, "Good choice."

 

For the next hour or so, she and her little companion worked together and discussed their task in their unique language of babbles and English. The sun warmed their backs, but it wasn't too much. All around them the sounds of neighbors working and enjoying each other filtered in. Neither refused to be sidetracked. Their hands remained busy, but at times, Michonne could not stop her mind from wandering.

 

Winter had come and gone since Rick first declared his love. Of course, once spoken he had not neglected in voicing the sentiment repeatedly. Michonne was unsure of what halted her from saying the same. She certainly felt it. She could not remember a time when something didn't buzz between them. Falling in love with him happened quietly and caught her unaware. When she realized that she loved him, it was far too late to stop. But why couldn't she say the words?

 

Later that night, the house was quiet except for the bedroom she and Rick shared. Michonne pressed her hand to her mouth to quiet the loud moans from escaping. Her back arched with every thrust from Rick's tongue. Her other hand rested on the back of Rick's head, guiding him with tugs on his silken, brown hair.

 

He lapped at her with gusto. His passion was more fierce than usual. Guttural noises emitted from his throat just as the first wave struck. With more speed than she could comprehend at the moment, he replaced his tongue with his hard, pulsating cock. He aimed straight for the spot that left her incoherent, but he never broke rhythm. In moments, she was on top, his hands spanning her waist.

 

Wild blue eyes stared into hers. Rick's face and chest were flushed from exertion. A grin parted his mouth as he broke the stare to gaze at her bouncing breasts and down below where they were joined as one. He pressed a finger against her clitoris, caressing just enough for her thighs to tremble.

 

"Cum for me," he growled.

 

"Not yet." She grabbed his wrist, but he would not let her move him. " _Damn_ , Rick..."

 

"My beautiful Michonne," he murmured.

 

She watched countless emotions flickered across his face. Rick was a strong man and could be brutal at times, but when he was gentle... Tears pricked her eyes. She could not remember her heart ever feeling so full. This— _what they shared_ —was so real that it was tangible. Their energy vibrated with it.

 

Her movements quickened. His hands returned to her hips and she knew bruises would be left from the way he gripped her. He wanted her to cum for him, and she did. So did he.

 

In time, she lay curled against him. Their breathing having returned to normal, they engaged in whispered conversation.

 

"I didn't mean to hurt you," he said.

 

"You didn't. I'm fine."

 

"A week away is too long. Daryl can handle it. Glenn, too. Only three days at the most from now on."

 

She rested her chin on his chest and smiled. "Are you trying to say you missed me?"

 

His eyebrows arched. "Did I? You were all I thought about. I feel like I'm fifteen again, but better. I'm wiser. I know what I'm doing."

 

Michonne giggled. "Yes, you do."

 

"What did you do for seven whole days without me?"

 

"More training for the newcomers. Planted flowers with Judith," she said. "You know. The usual."

 

"You? Planted something? You actually dug in the dirt?"

 

"Hey!" She playfully swatted the hand that was toying with her locs. "Being in the sun like that was relaxing...refreshing."

 

"I wish I had seen it," Rick murmured, humor shining in his eyes.

 

"I wish you had. I like making our home beautiful."

 

"You already do." He leaned forward to kiss her forehead. "Just by being here."

 

She scoffed. "Who knew you were such a romantic?"

 

"Like it?" he asked.

 

With all seriousness, Michonne said, "I love it. I love you, Rick."

 

Just as somber, he replied. "I know."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Author's note: Thanks for reading and reviewing! Things are progressing, but can we gush over last night's ep??? How is everyone? Can you breathe? Are you still floating? Have you worn out your dvr rewatching all the sexylovinggoodness that is Richonne, which is not CANON??? Some of the moments definitely reminded me of a couple chapters from this fic, specifically "Invigorate" and "Joyous." Sigh. TWD made this one a VERY happy shipper! Thanks again and happy rewinding! ☺]


	9. Sparkling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rick and Michonne and sparkling.

I

In the old world, Rick had no doubt that he would have kidnapped Michonne for the weekend, headed straight to Atlantic City or Vegas, eloped, and spent the rest of their time making love on soft sheets or in a foaming bubble bath. He wouldn't have had the patience of waiting for everyone to get seated or musicians to coordinate their sounds. He would have wanted her as his wife without delay. Patience be damned. Yet, as they stood before Father Gabriel with their children and family of friends as witnesses, he could not imagine their wedding day happening any other way.

 

His bride stood beside him, a lovely vision in a strapless white dress that molded to her curves like a second skin. Her dark eyes were sparkling, as was her smile every time their gazes met. One hand clasped a bouquet of violets while the other hand was locked with his. At this point, he could not be sure which of them trembled more, but he knew fear did not cause the involuntary muscle movement. They were far too certain of this transition. Other than continued safety for his loved ones, he wanted nothing more than to be Michonne's husband.

 

Gabriel's smooth tones carried them through the occasion of the ceremony with passionate delivery, pausing only to allow them to declare their vows. Rick had scratched his thoughts on several slips of paper. Nothing seemed enough. There was far too much he wanted to promise. So many things to thank her for. None of the words fit. In frustration, he had thrown the papers into a fire and decided to speak from his heart. Now he wished for a brief outline. Then as he turned to her, what he needed came just as he instinctively knew it would.

 

"My beautiful Michonne," Rick began, "I love you. I vow to spend the rest of my life making sure that you never have to question that. You are my best friend, my partner, my lover, my everything. Without you, I'm not sure I'd be here today. With you, I know anything is possible. I will always be grateful for whatever guided you to us that day, and I am even more thankful that you stand with me today as I promise to be your husband."

 

"Rick..." She coughed to clear her throat. Embarrassment flashed across her face, but he squeezed her hand and her usual quiet confidence returned. "You know I love you, too. I have for a long time. Carl and Judith...I couldn't love them more if..." She drew in a deep breath. "We've brought each other back from dark places too many times to count. My wish is that we never have to do that again, but if I falter, I know you will be there to pull me from the darkness. I vow to always do the same for you, but even more than that, that I vow that we'll create a life for each other and our family that keeps the dark places far, far away. I am happy to stand with you today and promise to be your wife."

 

The exchange of rings happened in a blur, but Rick required no encouragement to kiss his bride. His arms encircled her tiny waist and drew her against him. Despite the layers of a suit jacket and shirt and her beautiful gown, he felt the distinct pounding of their hearts, the drumming in unison. He tried to resist deepening the kiss in front of an interested audience, but her tongue skimmed his bottom lip and all was lost. Cattle calls from Abraham's booming voice and Daryl's loud cackle were just noise when Rick held his beautiful Michonne, now his wife, in his arms.

 

A short while later, Rick held Michonne's hand as he waited patiently during Daryl's longwinded toast. Rick never imagined his "brother" would take his responsibility as best man so seriously or overcome his usual shyness in such a bold display. A mason jar filled with clear home-brew was lifted and others followed suit. Michonne smiled at Rick as she too raised her glass. Rick did the same, all the while admiring his good fortune to have her and their family.

 

Around them, their extended family cheered their happy union. Maggie served as matron of honor, and Judith was the cutest flower girl imaginable. Carl strummed on his guitar whenever Father Gabriel dipped his head in a slight nod.

 

Over a year had passed since he and Michonne led their group inside the walls of what they deemed the Alexandria Safe Zone. All of them had endured more than they thought possible. They had survived losses and welcomed newcomers in the midst of overwhelming grief. The Grimes family was strong, united, and healthy in body, mind, and spirit, and Rick knew Michonne was the source of their strength. He loved her more every day and with more intensity than he ever thought possible.

 

After following the usual traditions of a wedding—tossing the garter belt and bouquet and cutting the cake—Rick and Michonne dipped out. With the reception in full swing, no one noticed to stop their departure. Carl had put away his guitar, and a CD player now blared an eclectic mix of rock, soul, and country. The make shift dance floor vibrated, and Rick planned to do the same with Michonne in the privacy of their honeymoon suite.

 

"Where are we going?" she asked, slipping the katana into place. "Our place is that way?"

 

"We're not going home tonight," Rick said with a slight grin. He reclaimed her hand and with the other, he grabbed a backpack. The weather-proof bag was stuffed with everything he decided they needed for an overnight getaway. Food, toiletries, clothes, and a jar of home brew.

 

He led her to the Ford Mustang that he had prepped and hidden just for this purpose. Michonne's giggle made his smile widen. He tossed the bag into the backseat and hurried to open the passenger door. Before she slid inside, he pulled her close for a deep, exploring kiss. When they parted, he admired her beauty in the waning twilight. Still dressed in wedding finery, she took his breath away. He was glad he had convinced her not to change clothes. A crown of violets recognized her for the royalty she effortlessly presented with her grace and wisdom. On impulse, he bowed low and kissed her hand, aiming for the finger where her wedding ring now took residence.

 

"Rick!" She giggled again. "What are you doing?"

 

"You're full of questions." He rose to his full height. "Don't you know you're not supposed to pepper your groom with questions on your wedding night? You're supposed to let him romance you."

 

"Oh really?"

 

Rick nodded, claiming a quick peck. "Yes, really. Get inside. Buckle up."

 

She murmured, "Bossy," under her breath, but she did everything he said.

 

As planned, Spencer opened the gate to let them out. Within minutes, the open road lay before them. Michonne slid in a Marvin Gaye cd and rested her hand on Rick's thigh. Fewer than five miles separated them from their destination, but Rick was half tempted to pull over and kiss his bride until the windows fogged. However, with stray walkers always about and potential enemies lurking around, he preferred not to risk it. Her life was too precious, and he promised himself that no blood would spill this day if he could help it.

 

Rick, Daryl, and Eugene had worked on the secured getaway for weeks. It was equipped with a sensor-controlled gate that he operated from a remote control. A line of defenseless, armless walkers served as protection around the chain-linked fence. The aesthetic was less than appealing, but it worked to keep walkers and curious humans from getting too close.

 

Rick noticed Michonne's quiet shake of her head when she saw the walker-guards. He continued driving until he pulled into a garage. Working on another set of sensors, lights illuminated the open space as soon as they drove in. The door rolled down when Rick touched a button.

 

"You've been busy."

 

Rick watched Michonne closely to assess her. A shadow blocked her eyes. Then she reached for the katana. Finally, he spoke. "Everything okay?"

 

"I'm not sure how I feel about the guard set-up," she answered. "It reminds me of who I'm not anymore. I don't miss that person. Reminders of her don't belong here."

 

He nodded, affected because he hadn't considered that. "I'll remove them."

 

"Stop." She grabbed his hand. Her smile was genuine, sexy, and hinted mischief. "I don't want you covered in blood tonight."

 

Rick paused to stare, enjoying this side of her as he always did.

 

"We'll take care of it in the morning." Michonne tugged, pulling Rick toward her. "We have better things to do, don't we?"

 

"Yes, ma'am, Mrs. Grimes," he said. "Indeed, we do."

 

With hands still locked, Rick didn't waste time to grab their backpack. They would retrieve the bag from the Mustang later. He led his bride up to the barn's loft where the honeymoon suite waited for the newlyweds. There were no roses or champagne, but a queen-sized mattress equipped with satin sheets that set the mood just fine, as did the flickering candlelight. Tonight made their union official, but Rick knew that he and Michonne had been husband and wife even longer than they realized. Some things were just meant to be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, reviewing, and leaving kudos! Your enthusiasm is motivating and appreciated! But TWD... I'm feeling like a little girl again who got EVERYTHING on her Christmas list. The Barbie townhouse, the Corvette, Barbie, Ken, Skipper, and clothes for all!!! Richonne being canon is like... And when Michonne made gaga eyes at Rick and he touched her knee and they held hands and Rick started grinning!!!! No, I'm not over it. Are you???


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